i write better when i listen to miles davis.

realizations and confessions as of late:

• i actually do all things better when i listen to miles davis. 
• klondike bars need to be sold individually. sometimes you just need a klondike bar at the end of a long day to remind yourself that life is, in fact, wonderful. but buying a whole package of klondike bars...now that's dangerous.  
• one day my "mom car" will be a renovated volkswagen Bus. 
• toast and sitcoms make my world go round. 
• "dreams" by the cranberries will always be on my running playlist. i know this isn't necessarily a good "running song," but every time it comes up in the middle of a run i get a new burst of energy because it's instantly the fall of 1998 and i'm on my way to the chic bookstore i own in new york city and i'm falling madly in love with tom hanks via email. sigh.
• speaking of online dating: it is the worst. absolute. if you're thinking it might be a good option but you're worried it might be: creepy, awkward, and potentially full of insecure losers who trick you into thinking they are sincere but are actually much worse than spending your evenings alone with netflix and dirty diet cokes indefinitely, you are absolutely correct. stick with real life because it's...real.
• on a slightly more positive note: if you are majoring in psychology, writing a novel that you need some juicy material for, or if you need to crank out some "people watching" but don't have five minutes to get it done this is absolutely the place for you. just don't pay for more than a month. that is adequate time to get all the material you need and so much more. 
• everything, and i mean everything, sounds better on vinyl. 
• taking polaroid pictures and finding pennies heads up belong in the same category in my brain.
• sometimes i get kind of scared when i watch sherlock right before bed, but i still can't help myself. 
• there are crazier people out there than you even have the ability to imagine. 
• in my world slippers can only be worn with socks on too.
• prince george is so adorable i could die. all i want in life is to have a son named jude who is as cute as him. 
• nerdy guys are typically the absolute best, but they can also end up being the meanest jerks of all the mean jerks. i think this is why i have such a love/hate relationship with the idea of peter parker.
• the older i get the more scary long boarding is becoming and the earlier i like to go to bed. (the second half of that is somewhat debatable.)
• charcoals and chalk pastels make my heart sing like a little bird in the springtime. 
• i could dive right into wikipedia and live in there for years on end. 
• last week i was reading about raves on wikipedia. they are completely horrifying. i think if i listed my greatest fears, getting trapped at a never ending rave would be pretty high up on that list. 
• also, at raves a lot of people suck pacifiers so they won't grind their teeth down to nothing as a side effect from the drugs they are on. i think a more enjoyable way to prevent this problem would be eating mass amounts of granola. they could put buckets of granola all over the place. if you are an avid granola eater you will totally understand, or maybe i'm just partial to granola despite the jaw workout it gives me. 
• if i could spend one day with a famous female it would be tina fey no questions asked. i love zooey deschanel but i would just stare at her and all her cuteness and wish i was her the entire time. unless she felt inclined to offer herself as a mentor to help me on my quest of reaching maximum quirky cuteness and allowing me to identify myself has her "redheaded little sister." (we would also play ukulele duets together and she would introduce me to JGL.) otherwise, mindy kaling is a very close second but just not quite the winner. 
• if you have read to the bottom of this ramble-y list, congratulations! i will start writing more frequently. just for you.  

all these things i've done.

Note: this post will probably be 50 times more awesome if you listen to the killer's "all these things i've done" while you read it.

as i'm sitting here drinking probably my one millionth diet coke in my nearly 26 years, with my ferret jumping onto my back over and over trying to get my attention while i attempt to type, i find myself reflecting on all of the completely moronic things i've done in my life.

i've done a lot of really, horrifically, embarrassingly, stupid things. want some examples? okay!

one time when i was a secretary i threw away ALL of the paperwork on "cafeteria plans" because "we don't even have a cafeteria in here!"

another time i went to the dr. because my hands were turning blue thanks to my new "dark wash" jeans. but obviously i thought i was dying.

another time i washed my clothes with fabric softener  instead of laundry detergent for an entire year and a half because i legitimately didn't know the difference. and i wondered why my clothes never looked clean and why i always smelled like b.o.

last year i rolled out of bed in my sleep and landed on my ukulele. i still don't know if i cried my eyes out for my hip or my ukulele.

i won't admit to the number of times i have spilled cans of soda and/or bowls of cold cereal in my bed.

i've lit my hair on fire more than one time.

i almost blinded myself staring at the bulbs in the tanning bed the first time i went tanning.

let also take a minute to acknowledge that i am a ginger. and i was in a tanning bed.

one time i gave myself massive rug burns on both of my butt cheeks  and the wedgie of the century when i decided to slide down the stairs in my underwear when my foot was broken and my ankles were both sprained and i couldn't get my pants on OR walk. (that was obviously the most logical way of getting to my bed.)

i'd prefer to not talk about the topics of "sunburns" and "cooking failures."

another time i saw all these cool ways of altering your clothes on pinterest without having to sew. they mostly included turning your old sweater sleeves into leg warmers and your jeans into shorts. because leg warmers and cut off jeans are even a style these days?! lets just say i ended up with a lot less clothes than i had before, and my loved ones refer to the incident as "the 2013 jeans massacre."

this list could go on until you worry for my sanity and well being so we'll stop there.

but of all the stupid things i've done, i have to say the worst one has been entrusting my heart with people who end up seeing little, if any value in it. i believe there are two kinds of people in this world. the ones who love effortlessly and genuinely; they are always eager and willing to love at nearly any cost. and then there is everyone else. it's really hard to fall into the first category. and OH! do i fall into that category. not only do you get hurt over and over again until you start to wonder if you are broken beyond repair, you are misunderstood, and often times misrepresented. sincerity is mistaken for over eagerness. genuine effort and sacrifice are considered creepy and weird. we live in a society where the value in love is continually decreasing. and there's no coincidence that hard work is right there beside it.

that being said, even though i would never stare at a tanning bed light bulb or slide down carpeted stairs in my undies again, and even though i now use actual laundry soap and i skip over anything that say "diy" on pinterest, and even though my greatest idiotic action in life was my openness to love, i would still do that one again. and again and again. because the only thing worse than getting hurt AND having someone proceed to make a fool of you, is the inability to really, truly, love another human being. ESPECIALLY after someone makes you feel broken for doing so. (and sometimes that someone is simply life itself.)

because, at the end of the day i still have eyes that work, and a butt that still has skin on it. my odor is no longer offending anyone. i like all my new jeans better than my old ones anyways. if i time travel to the 80s one day i will have enough leg warmers for every day of the month. my heart is big and soft and silly and welcoming as ever. and even though i will never be a soldier i've got enough soul to make up for it 10 times over.

and lets be honest, my battle will also be won with all these things i've done. especially the stupid ones.and ESPECIALLY the one where i always choose to love.

why do only creepy old men hit on me?

i do a lot of hair and thus i meet a lot of people. i only spend 10-20 minutes with each person depending on picky-ness, but it's amazing how much you can get to know someone in that amount of time. having spent a large portion of my time doing hair for 6 years this month, i have figured out a lot of stuff about the industry including but not limited to: the kind of clients who like me best. i have a knack for understanding moody teenagers. they always like me and the ones with cool parents always oblige to letting their teens make regular appointments with me. this is nothing new or eye opening for me. one day, i will be a jr. high or high school teacher of some sort for this exact reason. maybe it's because i'm their size and i look their age? who knows. teenagers just love me.

the other most popular client on my books  is men who range anywhere from the age of my father to the age of my grandfathers and then generally a little older than that. the older they are the more they seem to love me and the more loyal they are. old man, parted, scissor cuts are quickly becoming my forte in the hair business. and with these cuts comes a plethora of compliments and awkward comments such as: "if only i were 50 years younger, i'd take you to the movies this friday night!" that used to creep me out at first, but so did the constant:"you look like a little elf!"comments i get from strangers on a regular basis. it's amazing how time and consistency can turn even the most awkward of things into the norm. and, oh if only it were 1955, i would have more dates than i'd be able to handle!

at first i thought maybe i needed to revamp my wardrobe, or buy a more "current" perfume (or even wear perfume for that matter) but i've come to realize that the problem is not that i resemble a woman in her 60s+ but that i was, as i've said before, born in the wrong era. unfortunately i don't find many guys my age who life their life with the kind of "hepburnesque" class i strive for. nor do they even understand it, let alone appreciate it. guys my age have all kinds of bizarre commitment phobias and issues i don't understand. i've been hurt pretty badly but i still have a soft heart that is always ready to love. they typically don't understand classic literature, timeless jazz, the beauty of live theater. but what it really comes down to is the beauty of individuality, of being un-apologetically yourself. little do these adorable old men know that black converse are my shoe of choice, my current band is cake, and my ultimate crush will probably always be heath ledger with his semi-nasty 90s grunge hair/style. don't let my bobbed hair and cute wedge shoes fool you too much.


and as a side note, here's a list i recently created of my top ten irrational crushes (in no particular order and in addition to the previously mentioned heath ledger)

1-Spok
2-Niles Crane
3-Harry Osborne (pre green goblin)
4-Jack Black
5-Bruno Mars
6-Severus Snape
7-Bruce Wayne
8-Ben Gibbard
9-Chuck Bartowski
10-leonardo di caprio.

ferret orthodontia.

for those of you who don't know, this is my sidekick, dexter:

as you can see, he's a pretty big fan of his first summer.

other things he is a fan of:

hopping all over my keyboard and messing things up so badly i've had to reboot and restart this post twice.

scratching the shiz out of my carpet.

sneaking his toys around my room like a drug lord.

treats.

more treats.

any sound that slightly resembles the crinkling of plastic because his instincts tell him that must be me getting him treats.

hissing and launching himself at any part of me that he can reach.

stealing/hiding all of my socks.

running through the house with my bras in his mouth.

scratching himself a ridiculous amount because apparently he is almost constantly itchy.

napping in every outlandish position you can imagine.

climbing into my laundry baskets and rolling around in my dirty clothes.

being adorable.

"worming:" a verb created for the times in his life when he's too tired to actually walk so he pretends he's a hairy snake for awhile.

all the napping.

and snuggling.

also, rubber and polly pocket clothes make him turn into a crazed lunatic so we avoid those at all cost.

believe it or not dex knows his name. he knows the sound of my voice. he has a special place for each of his toys and all the things he has stolen from me and made his own, and he does not like it when i move them around. he knows how to stand on his back paws, and is slowly but surely learning to give a high-five. he also has these little fangs that almost always poke out just a little, especially when he is sleeping, and they might be the most consistently hilarious thing in my life at this point. i never anticipated that a little creature could be so smart, have so much personality, and consume so much of my heart. now that you have fallen in love with my pet ferret, let's talk about what happens when that love goes a little too far.

sometimes dex and i have sleepovers at my parent's house. they live nice and close and some nights there's more going on there and/or i end up feeling too lazy to drive home. such was the case this last friday night. my ten year old little sister also has a ferret, dexter's love. her name is delilah and she's a lot like dex only a fraction of the size, less spastic, more curious, and she loves biting human feet. dex LOVES delilah. and he especially loves a night full of spooning with delilah in her hammock. saturday morning and went to retrieve him from his romantic evening and found this next to the sleeping lovers:

no, that does not belong to me, but yes that is a human retainer. A RETAINER. IN THE FERRET CAGE. and no, the ferrets did not steal it. it was placed in there for reasons that are beyond me and everyone involved. i'm sure the ferrets were more than thrilled to sniff and lick all over it, and then stash it away in their cozy little bed. i will admit, on more than one occasion i have found one of dexter's toys in my bed. but you're talking to the girl who once found a banana (unopened thank goodness) in her bed one morning. but a retainer?! good grief. on a scale of "my pet is neglected" to "my love for my pet is becoming disturbing" i think we've nearly hit the maximum. the only thing worse in my mind is that episode of the office when angela accidentally leaves her web cam open on her office computer when she goes home for lunch and everyone watches her cleaning (as in licking) all of her cats. my eyeballs nearly popped out of my head when i saw that, and i laughed so hard i nearly went into cardiac arrest. so much ew.

that being said, dex will be happily keeping his very tiny, crooked, bottom teeth and you can look forward to many more adventures with him.

" chronicles of a premium dingus"

that was the alternative title to my blog, but seeing as how my life goal is to become a little more classy before i'm dead, i decided against it. but, that doesn't make it any "less true."

since we've already talked about the elephant in the room: the fact that i'm a bit of a dingus, and you are now quickly becoming both intrigued and invested in my chronicles, lets talk about some other things equal in levels of awesome and genuine.

there are few things that bring me more joy than going to the movies with a big tub of popcorn, a large dr. pepper, and one of those giant watermelon laffy taffys. i guess you could say this is my "happy place." some days i just need that escape from reality with some of my edible best friends. but most days i just love getting wrapped up in other places, other ideas, situations i will likely never find myself in. plus it's like people watching without getting crusty looks for unintentionally staring.

i blame the movies for a lot of things in my life. thanks to the truman show i have found myself wondering if my life is actually a reality tv show for a good 14 years now. why else would i get severely dumped, have my summer vacation plans simultaneously sabotaged, get a massive ticket for expired registration for at least the 10th time in my life the day before i was going to take care of it, a horrific sunburn, and a lost apartment key that, after fighting the tears and holding my head high for one too many days in a row, resulted in me climbing through my apartment window in front of a dominos delivery man with a dropped jaw as i cried sad, dirty tears to myself. guys, does real life include that? this has to be the cailie show. and i hope you're enjoying it thoroughly. especially the parts where i talk to my pet ferret and laugh so hard i'm bawling over a conversation with my sister about whether or not beavis and butthead were actually of scandanavian decent.

i blame the movies for a lot of my let-downs. stupid billy crystal playing harry burns always makes me think some incredibly handsome man is going to storm into my new year's eve lameness and give me a speech that leaves me speechless and will result in a wedding with dipping sauce on the side and blissful companionship for life. yeah right. "storming into my new years eve" would consist of walking into my parents basement and finding me passed out on the couch with pizza residue on my face, in a snuggie with a bandaids on my acne, halfway through the lord of the rings series. Not quite as glamorous as 1989 meg ryan at a legitimate new years eve party. but for the record that movie is the most adequate love story in my book.

i blame the movies for my jumpiness at the grocery store when a burly man walks around the corner and i'm sure he's there to kidnap me and hold me ransom but really he needs some toilet paper just like the rest of us.

but despite all the things i blame the movies for, when i'm 90 years old and even further away from 5 feet tall i will still be at the movies getting my brain filled with irrational ideas and just enough goodness.